Aftermath
Warning: Graphic sex, graphic language. This is much more graphic than I've ever written, I think. Not sure if this will work. I normally would take a lot more care with the build up of a relationship, but this one just wanted to be told this way. Would really appreciate some honest opinions.
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He wanted her, wanted her so much that it was a constant ache inside him and all his other lusts had become deserted alleyways that no longer haunted him. For him there was only her. Only and ever, Beth.
Oh, he never spoke of it, never let it slip in word or deed; he merely smiled and made the courteous noises expected of him during those polite social exchanges one had with the partners of one's friends. No one, not even the closest of his donor companions, knew that alone at night his cool skin burned, imagining her there in Mick's apartment, seeing in his mind those fine musician's fingers on her thighs, his friend's wide, generous mouth pressed against the lush strawberry contours of hers. The images tormented him. Not even breaking his long held taboo against partaking in sex with the beautiful women who fed him seemed enough to assuage his fierce desire to bed her.
Of course he'd tried to resist it, dismissing his attraction at first as a mere over-reaction to her unusual blood type. He was Mick's friend for fuck's sake, and his old buddy deserved some happiness after the nightmare that was Coraline. But as time went by, his infatuation with her only grew worse. He didn't understand it. Beth was no more beautiful than a thousand other women he'd slept with, no more brave than several in centuries past who'd given their lives for him. He'd tried to fight it, he truly had, but her cool indifference, her bare acknowledgement of his presence, thrilled him to his core. She was a challenge he couldn't resist and before he even realised it he'd begun to woo her.
The advances were subtle; allowing her to catch the briefest sliver of an appreciative glance at her décolletage or derriere; laughing at her jokes; seeking out her opinion on small matters of feminine interest as if it mattered to him. Trinkets that meant nothing to him began to find their way into her hands from his – a 250 oz bottle of Chanel's new and as yet unreleased eau de parfum, samples in her size of this season's range of Jimmy Choo's that had been sent to the house and that he'd said none of his ladies had wanted. He shrugged and said they were of no value to him, he'd take them away if she didn't want them. Mick thought nothing of this, used as he was to the casual generosity of his wealthier friend, so she accepted with a casual gratitude that only made him want her more.
He told himself this flirtation was just a game for his own amusement - seeing if he could win some warmth from Mick's prickly, uninterested girl. Only lately had he begun to believe the ice was beginning to crack, that a small thaw in her feelings was occurring. The first drop of melt water electrified him. He hadn't mistaken the brush of her finger against his as she'd handed him his usual glass of whisky one late stopover at Mick's before dawn, and she was beginning to look at him from time to time now too, when she didn't think that either he or Mick had noticed, her eyes lingering a little too long on the hard plane of his jaw and the smooth triangle of skin two buttons below the base of his throat. He had been alive too long to mistake the signals, even if she wasn't aware of it yet. A small green shoot of attraction toward him was uncurling within her, he knew it. Her hand had brushed against his once too often as they passed in the doorway to Mick's apartment these days for him to be mistaken about her interest.
And suddenly it was no longer a game. What she thought, what she wanted began to obsess him. He'd been fooling himself, he realised that now. This thing between them wasn't a game of no consequence, the outcome had become far too important to him. He'd existed for far too long in the arid wasteland a loveless life to let this go.
He had to have her, whatever the cost.
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His nightly visits had been in secret, waiting until Mick had left, then watching from her balcony until she fell asleep. In the depths of his desire for her he thought that being this close to her in the dark would hold him, but he was wrong. The obsession had grown too powerful. He had to see her without a pane of glass between them, but there would be no turning back once even one well-shod toe crossed her threshold, he knew it. He wanted her so badly he wouldn't be able to stop himself from making a declaration, one that would destroy his long-term friendship. He knocked on her door, shivering inside in abject terror at the thought that she might refuse him.
"Josef?" she queried sleepily, as she pulled the robe tighter around her waist. "It's 3.00am."
He said nothing but stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
"Josef?" she said again.
He stepped closer and taking her face between his palms he leaned in and kissed her with a kiss so soft she barely felt it.
"Oh," she said, taken completely off guard.
He leaned in and kissed her again, harder this time, letting his desire for her hum through his body like music. Her lips were warm and they yielded ever so slightly under the pressure of his. Her heart began to race and she swayed dangerously close to him before taking a little step back.
Her hand was on his chest. "Wai -"
He kissed her again, a hand on the small of her back pulling her in tight and her fingers curled around the lapel of his jacket. He kissed her jaw, her throat, her collarbone.
"Oh, Josef, no," she said in a voice that said don't stop. "This is wrong, so wrong."
Her heart was pounding and the unmistakeable scent of arousal rose from every inch of her. An all-consuming madness overtook him them and he cupped her breasts and stroked the balls of his thumbs across her nipples. She sagged against him and with a stifled groan he swept an arm beneath her knees and carried her into the bedroom.
"Please, Josef," she panted against his ear.
"Please what?" he said, as he lay her down on the bed.
"We can't do this."
He kissed her again and her mouth opened beneath his, the tips of their tongues touching.
"Tell me you haven't been curious," he said, his cool hand untying the sash around her waist, squeezing a breast gently.
Her back arched. "I haven't."
"Liar," he said.
She offered no resistance when he tugged the robe from her shoulders, began to unbutton her pyjamas. She was perfect: her breasts high and pert, her legs smooth and toned, the dark shadow at the tops of her thighs an irresistible temptation. He trembled when he touched her there, his erection painfully hard. The edge of his tongue flicked against the little pink tip and she sighed, opening herself to him fully. All pretence had gone, they were lovers in all but the deed itself and he didn't intend to wait any longer. He stood and silently removed his clothes as she watched from the bed, the desire in her eyes no longer camouflaged. Nothing was going to stop him from taking her tonight. It would be a fuck neither of them would ever forget. One knee rested on the sheets and he lowered himself over her until their bodies were almost touching. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. She sighed into his open mouth and a flash of white-hot fire engulfed him.
"Oh, yes," he murmured against her teeth.
One, then two fingers pushed into her vagina and pressed rhythmically against her inner walls until moisture soaked his palm. She groaned now, her unwilling sound of pleasure maddening him even further. His knee slid between her thighs and he thrust his cock deeply inside of her. She was so tight, so warm!
"Fuck me," she sighed so softly he wasn't sure she'd actually said it.
He thrust himself into her even harder, knowing by the iron grip of her vagina that her orgasm was close. He'd never felt so aroused.
"Bite me," she begged.
A slow smile spread across his face, his fangs springing from his gums. His hips thrust in a punishing rhythm and he bent his face to her neck and slid his fangs into her vein. She screamed, an orgasm punching through her system in terrible juddering waves, her senses spinning her off into oblivion. Moments later he too came in powerful icy jets. He remained inside her, pumping ever more slowly as she clung to him, trembling from the aftermath of her climax. His flaccid member slid from the warmth of her vagina and he rolled over to lie beside her. She turned her head away and stared at the wall. He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.
"Oh, Josef, what have we done?" she said.
He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not sorry." His eyes searched hers, "Tell me you're not sorry."
"I hate this."
"You loved it," he whispered, tracing the outline of a nipple. It hardened instantly and he looked at her triumphantly.
She slapped him. "How can I possibly tell Mick?"
"Tell me you won't be thinking about this all day tomorrow."
She slapped him harder and his eyes gleamed silver, his cock stiffening.
"I didn't think you'd want it again so soon, Beth." He pinned her to the bed and ran his fingernails across her nipples.
Her face contorted with ecstasy for a moment and then she frowned. "Let me go."
He sucked a nipple, razed the edge of a fang against the soft skin of her areola.
"Please," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering as her back arched, she pressed up against him.
"Please what, Beth?"
"Please leave," she ground out, insulted by the insufferable smugness of his tone. He merely smiled and sucked harder. She groaned again, her hips jerking convulsively. "Please," she whispered again, her fingers resting lightly against the back of his neck.
"What do you want?"
"I want… I want…"
He growled and shoved his erect cock into her, enjoying the small hiss of pain.
"Josef says gently this time," he said against her shoulder and he cradled her to him, moving inside her in the slowest of rhythms. Her breath rasped against his ear and he'd thought he would go mad with the pleasure of her obvious arousal. He was heading toward a second peak, his pleasure heightened by the sense that she had surrendered completely, that she was his. He brushed the hair from her face, made sure he could see her, needed to see every expression on her face as he fucked her.
"Tell me you want me."
Her eyes were glassy, a pained look of intense concentration on her face. "You know…" she winced, "You know I do."
The words electrified him. "Tell me again," he gasped, not quite believing it.
"I want you."
His fangs plunged into the skin above her areola and his body bucked, shooting semen into her cunt in endless waves.
Afterward he held her to him, licking the wounds his fangs had made in her perfect skin, smoothing his own blood over them so there would be no scar.
"I'll come again tomorrow," he said.
She didn't look at him. "Mick," she said.
" - is going to get an urgent assignment interstate."
He waited as she decided their fate.
"Love me again, Josef," she whispered and pulled him to her for the third time.
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